


The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

by pip_girl_111



Series: 4 Month Image Prompt Contest [4]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Babysitting, Cheese, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, December Entry, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Language, F/M, Fallout Image Prompt, Fluff, Image Prompt Contest, Mild Sexual Content, it's Christmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-07 22:15:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8818201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pip_girl_111/pseuds/pip_girl_111
Summary: Arthur Maxson and Grace (f!sole survivor) have their plan to spend the day in bed ruined when they're asked to babysit Duncan MacCready...-----------------------------------------For the December entry of likegoodangels Image Prompt Contest.Image here





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [likegoodangels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/likegoodangels/gifts).



Grace watched from the couch as Maxson begrudgingly hung various coloured lights throughout her house.

“I think that needs to be a little higher up Arthur,” she offered, nudging MacCready with her foot, prompting him to watch as Arthur became more and more agitated.

“Yeah Maxson, it’s so wonky,” MacCready added, “How did you manage to make it to Elder when you can’t even hang lights straight?” he jested with a smirk.

“I know that you’re both trying to make me angry, but I refuse to rise to it. The lights are fine, so either help, or keep quiet,”Arthur spat back. “Remind me again why i’m doing this?”

“Because me and Mac are too short and you refused to help decorate the tree-” ‘the tree’ being a mismatch of logs that Sturges had helped Grace screw together into something that resembled the shape of a Christmas tree. The decorations consisted mostly of colourful drawings Duncan had offered and pieces of cloth Grace had conjured into garlands, but overall they'd managed to piece together a pretty successful set of Christmas decorations- “that and you can’t resist my womanly charms,” she added with a flick of her hair.

Arthur replied with a snort and disappeared with the string of lights in the second bedroom.

“So what else needs doing?” Mac asked, dragging Grace off the couch.

She looked around the room, bathed in the warm glow of the makeshift fireplace, the radio playing a soft crooning song in the background. “We could hang some more of this bunting up?” she suggested.

MacCready bent low and she climbed onto his shoulders - their technique perfected after months of practice - and they moved around the room, Grace pinning and tying the decorative banners up as they went. 

“I think that needs to be a little higher Grace…” Arthur drawled from the hallway. MacCready spun towards him, giving Grace a clear view as he stalked across the room towards them. “Definitely wonky on that side…”

“Mac put me down,” Grace ordered, tapping the top of his head to hurry him along, but before  
Mac could get low enough to allow her to jump free Arthur had pulled her shoulder forward, gentle enough as to not hurt her, but with enough force to completely knock them both off balance. She squealed as they crumpled to the floor, her thighs still wrapped around MacCready’s head as if keeping hold of him would stop her from falling.

They lay in a heap for a moment, both disorientated, until Mac swatted Grace away, and Arthur helped him up.

“I thought neither of you were tall enough to hang these decorations?”

“Well, technically neither of us are… individually…” Grace replied, still lay flat out on the floor as  
Arthur pursed his lips.

“Get off the floor Grace.”

“I’m actually alright down here-”

“Get up,” Arthur ordered, his tone light.

“Anyway,” MacCready interrupted, “I should probably go and find my child and get him to bed. Good luck Grace, see you around Maxson.”

Arthur waved to MacCready as he hurried out the house, his split second break in focus allowing Grace the opportunity to scramble from the floor and make a break for her bedroom. She wasn’t quick enough though; Arthur quickly wrapping an arm around her waist and scooping her back towards him, lifting her feet clear from the floor, his free hand snaking up her shirt and hovering threateningly over the ticklish spot on her ribs.

“No no no, I’m sorry I asked you to hang the lights, but you didn’t have to do it!” she rambled, struggling against him in a futile attempt to get away. 

“But you didn’t _ask_ me to hang the lights did you?” he replied and she could hear the smile in his voice as his fingers pressed gently against her ribs, reducing her into a frantic fit of giggles. “Try again,” he said, stilling his hand so she could answer.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry I made you hang the lights!”

“And…”

“And?... I’m sorry you’re so bad at hanging them up stra-”

Before she’d finished her sentence, Arthur had swept her around to the sofa, throwing her onto the cushions and climbed atop her; his leg pinning her hips, freeing both his hands to attack her sides. 

“Try that again.” 

She wheezed a pathetic objection through laughs, trying to angle herself to push him away, but only succeeding in opening herself up more to his wandering fingers. 

“You’re sorry you made me hang the lights, and?” he prompted, laughing himself now as tears rolled down her face.

“And I really appreciate it, you’re so good at it, my hero. Now get off me!” she choked, swatting at his chest and rolling away when he sat back to let her catch her breath.

Once she’d calmed down he cuddled next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder to keep her close, and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. 

“All joking aside, you’ve done a better job with the lights than me and Mac would have,” Grace commented, admiring their afternoon of handy work. 

The house was washed in spots of red, white and green light, the garlands and banners combined with the fire to give the room a coziness that Grace hadn’t realised she’d missed until now. The radio hummed softly in the corner, disturbed only by the crackling of the fire and Arthur’s deep breaths. 

“I have to admit, the whole look is very effective,” Arthur said, angling her chin upwards and kissing her softly, the gentle movement of his lips seeming to melt away the rest of the world.

She relished the time they got to spend together, shut off in her house for days on end, protected by a bubble of domestic bliss, the outside world unable to touch them. It never lasted long, both of them too important to stay hidden away for any length of time, but for the little snippets they enjoyed, it was almost like this was the life Grace was always meant to lead - like the war, the vault, losing everything she’d known, was all part of the plan. 

People relied on her here, needed her judgement and leadership, but more than that; here she was able to make people’s lives better. 

“Are you okay?” Arthur asked after a moment of silence, clearly her pondering was portrayed on her face.

“Mmhmm... Have you ever celebrated christmas?” 

Occasionally Arthur would allow her tiny insights of his past, careful questioning rewarded with little stories of his life before she knew him. 

“Christmas isn’t something the Brotherhood spares assets to celebrate, even in the Capital.”

“No, before then. Before you joined the Brotherhood…” she mumbled the qualifier cautiously, aware that Arthur rarely appreciated questions about his family.

“The majority of the people in the Wasteland have neither the resources nor the inclination to recognise a pre-war holiday. Apart from those in Diamond City and now you in Sanctuary, i’ve never really heard of people properly observing the traditions of Christmas.”

Grace watched as he moved away from her, and began flitting about the room, neatening the odd bits and pieces that had been strewn around the room throughout the day. The moment had passed and Arthur’s wall was back in place. She was satisfied though, he’d willingly replied with more than a shrug of his shoulders, and she knew that when he was ready, he’d let her further in, but now wasn’t the time. 

“Does that mean you haven’t got me a present?” she asked, joining him in the kitchen and hoisting herself onto the countertop.

“That’s not what I said...”

“So you have got me something? What is it?”

“I was under the impression that that was meant to be kept a secret until Christmas day?” his mouth twitched into an almost smile as he sidled close to her, his hands coming to rest on her hips. 

“Well I don’t know what outdated books you’ve been reading, but that’s not how Christmas-” 

He cut her off with a kiss - deep and slow - his hands moving to her hair to angle her head back.

“It’s a surprise,” he reiterated, punctuating each word with a press of his lips to hers. 

He didn’t give her chance to argue again, lifting her from the countertop and carrying her to the bedroom where they spent the night entangled in each other.

\------------------------------------

Grace awoke in the usual position she found herself in when she spent the night with Arthur; secured tightly to him by an arm and leg, his face pressed so close to the back of her neck that she sometimes wondered how he managed to breath comfortably. She shifted carefully, trying and failing to not disturb him. The deliberate breath down her neck and the wrapping of his arms around her signified that Arthur was awake. 

“Arthur…” she mumbled, trying to free herself from his vice grip

“Stay here,” he replied sleepily, and an awkward glance over her shoulder showed that his eyes were still closed.

“Okay, but loosen up.” She elbowed him gently in the ribs and he released her, tucking her hair behind her ears to allow him access to her neck.

He trailed light kisses along the exposed skin, his hands sweeping across her bare stomach and across her hip.

“As nice as this is, I’ve got things to do Arthur,” she drawled, involuntarily slinking against him, her head rolling to the side to give him better access.

“Don’t lie to me,” his hand danced between her legs, drawing a moan from deep in her throat, “you have nothing to do today, you told me yesterday. So we’re going to spend the day in bed doing everything we’ve missed out on the past few weeks.”

She flipped over, straddling him before he had time to react and guided him inside her. She rocked against him, her hands on his shoulders keeping him pinned to the bed.

“What did you have in mind?” she asked, rolling her hips slowly against his.

“This… is a good start,” he replied breathily, his hands covering her stomach, stroking the soft skin towards her breasts. 

“GRAA-AACCIIIEE,” Duncan’s sing-song voice rang through the entire house as he flung open the door, the crashing of wood against the wall cueing Arthur to throw Grace off him and shoot out of bed. 

Grace followed slowly after, pulling her jeans and jumper on at a leisurely pace as Arthur scrambled desperately for his underwear. 

“Duncan wait there!” MacCready called after him, “I told you, you can’t just burst into people’s houses.”

“But I didn’t Daddy. I shouted,” Duncan replied confidently and Grace could imagine him stood hands on hips, expression saying _I know what i’m doing._

Grace threw one of the blankets from the bed towards Arthur who was struggling to piece together an outfit from the odd items of clothing that had made it to the bedroom, and he wrapped it around his shoulders, just in time as Duncan knocked on the bedroom door whilst simultaneously opening it.

“Gracie!” he ran towards her and she scooped him up. Despite turning six in a few months, Duncan was still light enough for Grace to carry, his tiny frame hidden in layers of clothing to keep him warm. Duncan wrapped his arms around her neck and pulled himself closer to her for a hug.

“Daddy’s got to go out, he said you have to look after me,” he explained, pulling at the fraying ends of the scarf that was wrapped around his neck.

“Duncan that’s not what I said,” MacCready interjected pulling Duncan from Grace and flipping him upside down so he squealed. “Grace that’s not what I said. I’ve got to cover some guard duty, so I _suggested_ that you _might_ be around and he was over here before I could stop him.” He placed Duncan on the floor the right way up and followed Grace into the kitchen.

“We’ll look after him Mac, don’t worry,” she replied, hoisting Duncan onto a barstool and helping him remove some of his layers. “We didn’t have anything planned anyway, did we Arthur?”

MacCready turned to Arthur with an apologetic look, “you can say no, I get that you have other things you’d rather be doing, stuff you can’t do with a nosey five year old running around.”

“I think Grace has already made up her mind,” Arthur replied, gesturing feebly towards the kitchen where Grace was already playing some kind of game with a bowl of dry Sugarbombs, her and Duncan taking turns to flick them into a cup. 

“Suppose you’ve got no choice then. Thank you,” MacCready said and Arthur squeezed his shoulder before gathering the rest of his clothes from around the house. “Right Duncan, listen to Grace and Arthur, and be good,” Mac ordered, pressing a lingering kiss to Duncan’s cheek and ruffling his hair. “I’ll see you later.”

“Hey! Where’s mine?” Grace pouted, tapping her finger against her cheek with a wink to Duncan.  
MacCready huffed but kissed her cheek all the same. “You be good as well.” 

“I always am.” 

MacCready and Arthur answered simultaneously with a snort before MacCready reluctantly braced the cold again, pulling the collar of his duster up around his ears.

Once MacCready was out the door, Grace turned to Duncan. “So what do you want to do today?”  
He paused for a moment, his face screwed up in concentration as he considered his options. “Can we go ‘sploring?” 

Grace’s eyes lit up as she clocked the blanket of snow swaddling the ground and Arthur groaned as she dashed to her room in search of her jacket and hat. She emerged a few minutes later - Arthur and Duncan having sat without sharing a word the entire time, the only break in silence the rhythmic clanging of Duncan swinging his legs against the metal bars of his stool - and threw Arthur's thick battle coat across his lap before forcing a woolen hat over his head. 

“Right, Duncan get your coat on,” she turned to face Arthur, “can you help him please?” 

She watched, hand on hip as Arthur awkwardly held Duncan's coat slightly out of reach, watching as if Duncan would give him some instruction as to what he was to do next. 

“Arthur, he's a child not an alien, just hold his coat out so he can get his arms into it!”

She fiddled with her own coat, and once they were layered up she took Duncan’s hand and lead him out the door, Arthur following closely behind, still bewildered at his earlier interaction with Duncan.

“I know somewhere we can go Duncan, you're going to love it, lots of trees to climb,” Grace explained pointing just over the horizon.

“Yeah?” he replied, his eyes bright and a broad smile across his face, scrunching his features into a mini version of MacCready.

“Yeah!”

“Can he climb?”

“Arthur? I don't know, can you?”she asked, turning to Arthur with a curious look.

“Can I climb trees? I would suppose it's like climbing anything. So yes, I would say I could climb a tree if the situation called for it,” he replied.

Grace and Duncan froze with a look to each other.

“You've never climbed a tree?” Grace probed.

“When do you suppose I have the time to climb trees Grace?”

“Didn't your Daddy show you?” Duncan asked, brown eyes wide. “My Daddy showed me. I was sick for a while so I couldn't do it all the time but now I do it lots.”

“I… no. My father never had time to teach me,” Arthur replied.

“It's okay. I can show you. Gracie says I'm really good,” he said dropping Grace's hand to walk closer to Arthur. “My Daddy says don't look down and to only put your feet on big bits of the tree, otherwise you'll fall down. I can get really high now. Gracie is good too, but she says I'm better because I can get higher. I got to the very top of one tree before, Gracie tried to come up too but she couldn't get as high as me so it was just me at the top and I could see loads and loads of things, but when I came back down I slipped a little bit and Gracie had to catch me-”

“Yes and we agreed that we weren't going to climb that high again…” Grace interjected with a warning glance to Arthur. 

“Yeah Gracie said she was scared because I could have got hurt. But it was okay because she catched me. Are you scared about climbing a tree Arthur? The first time is scary because you get really high and you can get scared that you can't get down-” he pulled Arthur down by the arm so he could attempt to whisper in his ear, “- sometimes i still get scared when I get too high because my feet can't get on the branches and I get stuck-” he straightened back up and puffed his chest out a little before grasping Arthur's hand again, “but you don't have to be scared because me and Gracie are here and we'll show you. Well… Gracie can help you more, because I'm still little, but you can copy me.” 

When he finally took a breath Arthur turned to Grace, clearly urging for some guidance for the correct way to answer, but she simply raised her eyebrows and trudged off in front.

“You sound like you know a lot about climbing trees,” was what he settled on, and Grace smiled as Duncan explained everything MacCready had ever told him about the best tree climbing techniques.

“Do you climb trees in Sanctuary?” Arthur asked once Duncan had finished.

“Mmhmm, but I think I've climbed all the ones I can. Gracie is going to make a climbing thing like children used to play on. She says it's better than climbing a tree because there’s lots of different ways to get up and down. You can play with me on it if you want?”

“I'd like that. When is Grace going to build it for you?”

“She says she hasn't got everything she needs to make it for me but maybe I can have it for my birthday because I'll be a bit bigger then.”

“We’ll see Duncan, it's going to take me a lot of time to build a climbing frame that's big enough for you,” she interjected, “anyway, we're here now.” She extended her arm as if the lake she'd found was something of her own creation.

A light snowfall had started during their walk, leaving a dusting of white powder across the frozen surface of the water. Around the outskirts on the lake, rows of trees jutted against the misty sky, the snow masking the bare bark so much that Grace could easily pretend she was back before the war, the leaves wilting at the first signs of winter rather than nuclear fallout. 

Cut across the middle of the lake was a fallen tree, it's shrivelled roots still half clinging to the ground despite its awkward angle.

Duncan ran towards it first.

“Can I walk on it?” he asked, testing a foot against the trunk. 

“It's not safe Duncan,” Grace explained in her best ‘mom voice’. He pulled his foot back, his mouth knotted into a harsh line. “There's loads to explore here, I thought that's what you wanted?” 

He didn't answer, just grabbed Arthur's hand and pulled him towards the nearest tree. “You should climb that one, put your foot here.” He tapped the lowest branch, his posture and expression a perfect replicas of MacCready, and Grace had to stifle a laugh as Arthur followed without question. “Your hand needs to go up there, and then this foot-” he ran round the tree to touch the leg Arthur had left in the ground - “goes on this branch. You're climbing now! I told you it was easy. But don't go too high because you might hurt yourself and then Gracie will get cross with me.” The words almost exactly those that Grace had told him a few weeks ago. 

She watched as Arthur paused, forehead resting on his arm, as he bit back a laugh. “I’m sure Grace will understand that it isn't your fault if I get hurt. You're a very good teacher Duncan. Am I doing this right?” He climbed a few feet higher, repeating the motion Duncan had shown him.

“Yeah! Gracie look he's climbing!”

“I know, I think he's a better climber than me Duncan, maybe Arthur will have to come tree climbing with you all the time?” The question was directed at Arthur more than Duncan, a veiled appeal to spend more time in Sanctuary with her.

“We’ll see,” he answered, climbing the last few branches till he reached a particularly thick one which he straddled. 

Duncan followed swiftly behind, clearing the tree in seconds - his route carefully planned before his foot even touched the first branch - and he allowed Arthur to help him straddle the same branch, his back securely rested against the trunk, Arthur's legs either side to keep him stable.  
Grace left them to it, circling around the lake to the chitter chatter of Duncan, retelling another tree climbing story probably. It wasn't until a few minutes later, when a snowball connected with the back of her head, that she paid them any notice.

Swinging round, she found Arthur, arm outreached - obviously the one to have thrown the ball - and Duncan laughing hysterically as he mashed together another snowball.

“Hey! That's fair, I can't get you guys up there!” She ducked out of the next attack, jumping behind a tree. “You’ve got to play fair! If I hit you and you fall out the tree then I'm going to get told off by MacCready and Kells!” 

“Gracie!” Duncan laughed, “you can't get a snow ball that high! You aren't big enough!” 

“Can too! I just don't want either of you to fall.” 

She saw Arthur whisper something to Duncan before they both made their way gracefully down the tree - as it turned out Arthur was a natural tree climber, not that Grace was particularly surprised, but Duncan seemed impressed with his teaching skills - as soon as their feet touched the ground she hurled a snowball towards them, only for it to fall a few feet in front of them, her trajectory completely miscalculated.

“Ha-ha, you can't get us!” Duncan teased, giggling as he ran for cover behind a tree. 

Their back and forth continued, Grace and Duncan both ending up completely covered in snow, while Arthur escaped fairly untouched. Eventually Grace and Duncan both sought shelter behind the same fallen tree, crouching low as Arthur stalked the surroundings, snowball in hand. 

“Duncan keep quiet,” Grace whispered, pulling snow in front of them, “help me make some snowballs. When he gets close, just keep throwing.” 

Duncan nodded frantically, his face knitted in concentration as he began producing snowballs to add to their pile.

A crunch of snow behind them alerted Grace to Arthur's presence, but before either her or Duncan could move, Arthur had scooped Duncan from the floor hoisting him in the air and holding him over a loose pile of snow.

“Drop the snowballs Grace!” he ordered, effortlessly keeping Duncan in the air despite his giddy squeals and attempts to get loose. 

“Okay, okay! Fine, I give in,” she replied, a snowball still clutched behind her back.

Arthur flipped Duncan around so his tiny fingertips brushed against the pile of snow, “drop that snowball or I drop Duncan.” He was smiling broad now, eyes shining like Grace had never seen, as Duncan screamed and laughed, clutching handfuls of snow while Arthur was distracted. 

Grace made a show of setting the snowball down, stepping away from it with her hands in the air. With a small nod to Duncan he managed to swing himself towards Arthur, shoving a handful of snow down the front of his shirt. 

Despite the unexpected attack, Arthur kept hold of him, calmly turning him the right way before dropping him backwards into the snow. With a soft thud, Duncan disappeared within the fine powder, the only trace of him the full belly laughs that filled the air. 

“Arthur!” Grace exclaimed with a laugh, rushing towards the laughing pile of snow.

“I warned you! Besides he's fine. Aren't you Duncan?”

“Uh huh. That was funny!” His head popped in to view and he smashed his way out of the pile. “My feet are wet now though…” 

“That's okay, Arthur can carry you back to Sanctuary.”

“A piggy back?” Duncan asked, already tugging Arthur towards him so he could climb aboard his back.

“Sure, just hold on tight,” Arthur prompted, wrapping Duncan's arms tightly around his neck.

Duncan chattered about tree climbing and snowball fights the entire way back to Sanctuary, Arthur and Grace barely sharing a word for the walk, but by the time they reached Grace’s house Duncan had worn himself out, Arthur having to cling onto his wrists to keep him secured.

Grace bathed and changed Duncan while Arthur reheated some stew they'd missed out on at lunch time, and by the time they all settled by the fire the sky had turned dark and the prattle of Sanctuary’s busy inhabitants had quietened significantly.

“Gracie can I have a story?” Duncan asked, squeezing himself between Grace and Arthur.

“Are you tired?”

“No…” he mumbled.

“If you get into bed then you can have a story,” she offered.

“Can Arthur read it to me?” 

Grace gave Arthur a look _is that alright?_ it said _you can say no…_

“Okay Duncan, you get into bed and I'll find a story,” Arthur answered, helping Duncan to wiggle free.

Duncan ran into Grace's room, familiar now with the routine, and clambered under the blankets.

When the room had settled again, Grace turned to Arthur, “give him 2 minutes and he’ll be asleep, story or not.”

“I don't mind reading to him…” Arthur replied, “I will admit that I had my doubts about today, but I've actually had an enjoyable time.” 

“That has surprised me,” she she, “I honestly thought today would have been your worst nightmare.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I've seen how you are with the squires, you aren't exactly the most kid friendly person I've ever met…”

“That's because the squires need to learn that I am their Elder, not their friend. Today was different, it was… nice, fun… with you, it just seemed… easy.” His cheeks blushed a little pink at his confession and he turned to look at the fire.

“Have you ever thought about having your own kids someday?”

He took a deep breath and Grace held hers, another probing question she wasn't really expecting an answer to.

“Someday,” he eventually replied after a pregnant pause. “It's always been expected of me to carry on the Maxson line. But that's all I've ever considered having children to be... providing the Brotherhood with a leader. But now, I don't know. I see MacCready and Duncan, and after today, maybe that's what I want as well… you must miss it?” 

“I…” she fumbled for words, floundering under the first question Arthur had asked about her _before_ life that hadn't been the product of her offering her own snippets of her past. “I suppose, in a way yeah. Obviously I never got to do this with Shaun, so you can't really miss something you never had, but when you have kids you can't help but picture the person they're going to turn out to be, you imagine all the things you'll get to do with them, to show them, so I guess it's more that which I miss. Duncan's a pretty cool kid though, so I try to just enjoy spending time with him…”

“Do you ever think about doing it again? Having more children I mean?” 

They both knew the real question Arthur was asking _do you ever think about having children with me?_ and her heart felt heavy in her chest. It was a question she had no answer for, a subject she'd tried so hard to ignore, to push to the back of her mind.

“I'm not sure…” She'd said it before she'd even realised her mouth had opened and Arthur simply nodded - filing the information away for further examination another time - and they both returned to silence, the crackling of the fire the only reprieve.

“Arthur! I want a story, you said I could!” Duncan's little voice shattering the strange silence.

“You should probably see to that, he's definitely Mac’s kid when he doesn't get his own way. The tantrums are actually a little impressive, one time-”

“Arthur!” 

“Go, just keep him sweet till we can give him back,” she urged with a wink, throwing her feet into the spot Arthur had vacated and reclining on the sofa, “and then we can get back to where we left of this morning, I’m pretty sure you said we had a lot to catch up on?” 

“ARTHUR!”

“I’m coming Duncan,” he replied, disappearing down the hallway.

Left alone in the quiet - Arthur's soothing voice placating Duncan - Grace could do nothing to avoid her intrusive thoughts on their conversation. She did miss it, being a mom, and it wasn't a complete surprise to her the Arthur was being pushed to have children, perhaps with her; the knowing looks from the Proctors, the little eyebrow raises and comments about “the future of the Brotherhood” had given that away, and at her most recent medical examination, Cade had spent a lot of time discussing the possible effects the Commonwealth may have had on her fertility. But those were all easy to ignore, for the subject to be broached by Arthur himself, well that was different. 

It wasn't that she didn't think he could do it, more that she doubted herself.

“He's fast asleep.” 

Arthur's voice made her jump, but it was a welcome reprieve from her thoughts.

“Grace, is everything alright?” Arthur asked, pulling her from the sofa by her outstretched hand. “Is this about what I said earlier?”

“Yeah…”

“Ignore it. It's a topic that I shouldn't have brought up without properly considering the implications first. Perhaps we can talk about it more in the future, perhaps not. But right now, Duncan is asleep, and we’re alone, let's just enjoy that.” 

He laced his fingers with hers, directing her gently towards him, and kissed her slowly. His free hand settled on her cheek, his thumb gently grazing the soft skin; she didn’t know exactly what she wanted from the future, but right now this was enough and she had every intention of making the most of it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after a comment on the first chapter of this fic I ended up obsessing over what Arthur would have got Grace for christmas, and then I saw @syrenpan ‘s seasonal prompts and decided to write a little drabble… a drabble that ended up being over 2,000 words long.  
> It’s a little messy but it’s fluffy and christmassy and the last piece i’ll be posting till at least the New Year, enjoy.

“Gotta say you look pretty damn good in that coat,” Hancock commented, watching as Grace swished the tails of his coat around her.

“I know right! Although, are you surprised? Red looks amazing on me,” Grace replied with a swish of the coat tails.

“It definitely does, though I could think of something else red that would look a hell of a lot better on ya,” Cait added with a wink.

“Was that a pick up line? Because that was awful, try again.”

“Wanna fuck?” Cait tried, eyebrows raised with a suggestive smirk

“Smooth Cait,” MacCready commented, throwing his hat into the middle of the table.

Cait reached over and ruffled his hair, “you say that, but it worked the first time!” 

“Oh Cait, you hopeless romantic, be still my beating heart…” Grace touched the back of her hand to her forehead and clutched her chest, “no.”

The group of them broke out in a fit of giggles.

“Never thought I'd say this, but getting all of us together for this ‘Christmas’ thing was actually a good idea Gemmy.” Grace looked to Hancock, waiting for a joke to counter his last statement, but nothing came. Clearly he meant what he'd said.

“You know what John? I'm inclined to agree with you. It's gone a hell of a lot better than I thought it would.” 

“What, you thought filling a room full of everyone you've slept with since you woke up might end badly?” MacCready added, sarcasm laced through every word, “I don't believe that Grace!”

“Shut up.” She threw a bottle cap at him and he caught it effortlessly, stuffing it in his pocket. “Firstly, not everyone I've slept with since I was defrosted is here, and second of all, I haven't actually slept with everyone in this room. So… fuck you.” 

She had to admit that the day was going surprisingly well; the children were running around outside, playing with whatever toys their parents had scavenged for them, leaving the adults to drink and talk while the large christmas meal was being prepared by Codsworth and some other settlers that had shown themselves to be talented cooks. Preston and Danse were huddled together in a corner, pretending to conspire about training drills for the Minutemen, but Grace knew better; the two men had become incredible close since Danse’s promotion in the Minutemen, Preston having taken him under his wing and helped him to shed his utter devotion and obedience to the Brotherhood, supporting him as he came to terms with his new identity - they were good for each other and the Minutemen were thriving thanks to their leadership. 

Piper was shouting at Deacon about something, his nonchalance forever grating on her nerves, but the slight smile and twinkle behind her eyes betrayed her fondness of the man sat in front of her, and the red twinge to the tips of Deacons ears made it abundantly clear to Grace that her feelings were returned - and then some. 

Curie was busy flitting around Nick, questioning him for the millionth time about his wiring, forever intrigued about the workings of his mind. To his credit, Nick humoured her for the most part attempting to subdue her insatiable curiosity with the most in-depth answered he could give, and despite his mild annoyance after a particularly intense interview, Nick would always search Curie out first when he visited Sanctuary.

All in all, the day had gotten off to a roaring success and now Grace was intending to get roaring drunk to celebrate. She reached for another bottle of beer when the whirring of vertibird engines froze her.

“Fuck,” she muttered, sharing a panicked glance with Danse and Preston, “it’s christmas, he could have got them to drop him off a bit further away!”

The majority of the room stood and exited the cabin, forming a protective barrier between the approaching vertibird and Danse. Grace pushed herself to the front, her slight buzz spurring her into an argument with Arthur, but the vertibird wasn’t the same as the regular ones that carted around the Brotherhood’s soldiers; this one was dark blue, a suspiciously similar colour to her general’s garb, and as it landed she noticed the telltale Minutemen insignia painted on the side.

She turned to Preston who had made it to her side, wide eyed, “I… What is this?”

He just shook his head, Grace’s look of utter bewilderment mirrored on his own face. 

Arthur jumped from the bird before she could babble any more, swiftly followed by Scribe Haylen and Brannon, a Lancer whose name Grace has forgotten and two squires who quickly ran to join the other children with a nod from Arthur. She relaxed, confident in the fact that they were no threat to Danse and turned her attention to the vertibird in front of her.

“What is this?” she asked feebly.

“Merry Christmas,” Arthur replied. 

Brannon and Haylen stood giggling behind him, “it’s your christmas present Grace!” Scribe Brannon eventually explained, “one of them anyway…”

“One of them?” 

“I… umm, yes. I wasn’t expecting such a crowd actually,” Arthur gestured to the horde of settlers behind her, the entire town now gawping at the aircraft, “but this is for you, well I suppose technically it’s for the Minutemen…” 

“You’re supposed to say thank you,” MacCready -who had wormed his way to the front - stage whispered to Grace.

“Thank you,” she blurted, “I’m sorry i’m just a bit speechless… this is possibly the first time that’s ever happened. I don’t understand, this is - I… I really don’t know what to say. So this is mine?”

“Yes General. If the Minutemen are ever going to expand then you need to start adding to your arsenal. Lancer Jones,” the young man raised his hand in a half wave, “has kindly volunteered to train a few pilots for you, but this vertibird is essentially yours to do with as you wish General,” Arthur clarified.

“Right, everyone get back to what you were doing, food’ll be ready soon. Brannon, Haylen, Danse is in that cabin i’m sure he’d love to see you. Preston, can you give Lancer Jones a quick tour, find him somewhere to stay, i’m sure he’ll be with us a while… Arthur, you come with me.” She quickly reverted back to ‘General-mode’ and whisked Arthur to her house where they could talk privately.

As soon as the door closed, she turned to him, “Arthur, you didn’t have to do that! When I was talking about gifts I never expected something like that, you can’t give up one of the Brotherhood’s vertibirds!”

Arthur ran a hand over the back of his neck, “Kells and I had actually discussed issuing the Minutemen a vertibird a few months ago, although I have no qualms with our partnership, having your own vertibird would give the Minutemen a certain degree of independence and would ease some of the pressure on the Brotherhood to answer your signals.”

“So you did it to get me off your back?” she asked with a smirk.

“No! But I thought if I could delay the handover for a few weeks then I could market it to you as a christmas gift-”

“And make yourself look good?"

Arthur answered with a small nod and a smile, “yes....”

“Well thank you,” she said, pulling him to her by the lapels of his coat and planting a gentle kiss on his lips, “and merry Christmas.”

They stayed like that for a moment, until Arthur began rummaging in his coat.

“I do have another gift, your actual gift.” He pulled a small wooden box from his pocket and held it out to her sheepishly. “It’s not as impressive as a -”

“Shhh,” she interrupted, snatching the box from him and throwing the lid open. 

On a piece of fabric sat a holotag, engraved with Arthur’s details;

 _Maxson, Arthur_  
_Elder_  
_MX-001E_  
_A POS_

She took it out to examine it.

“I remembered you said you always wanted one of Nate’s dogtags, I know it’s not the same but… turn it over,” Arthur prompted.

She rolled it over in her hand; the reverse side had been coated in a layer of gold and in the centre had been engraved an extravagant A & G.

Grace ran her fingers over the cool metal, speechless once again as tears welled in her eyes, and Arthur stood with his hands clasped behind his back, waiting.

After a moment of silence she wiped the building tears from her eyes, “Thank you, I love it. How did you manage to make this?”

“With great difficulty and planning.”

She clipped it around her neck and tucked it into her shirt, “you’ve put my present to shame…”

“You’ve got me a gift?” he asked, eyes wide in genuine surprise.

“Of course I have, wait there,” she ordered, already walking to her room. She returned seconds later, hands behind her back, “before I hand this over I want you to know that it’s no vertibird and although it might not look like much, it nearly cost me my finger so just bear that in mind…”

She pulled a miniature model of the prydwen tied with a neat red bow from behind her back and handed it to Arthur. “Sturges was teaching all the kids to whittle so I sat in on a few lessons, that’s meant to be you in the window,” she added pointing to a tiny version of Maxson silhouetted in the window of the observation deck. 

“This is… incredibly detailed and accurate. You actually made this yourself?”

She nodded.

“How did you-”

“With great difficulty and planning,” she echoed with a smile, “also, Sturges helped a bit so I suppose I can’t take all the credit. I have something else for you as well though.” She rummaged in her pocket and pulled out a plain gold ring. “It was my dad’s, he was awful for losing his wedding ring and his excuse always used to be that it was ‘just a bit of metal’, so my mom went out and got him an engraved ring.”

Arthur turned the ring delicately between his fingers, reading the engraving on the inside. 

“Amor vincit omnia... Love conquers all.”

“Exactly, my dad used to tell everyone it said ‘lose this ring and you’re fucking dead’ though, but he never did lose it. He gave it to me for my 18th birthday, I wore it everyday on a chain, but since -” she swallowed the thick grief that rose in her throat whenever she brought up the war and continued “- it’s just been sat in a draw. I want you to have it.”

“I can’t take it, I don’t deserve this,” Arthur replied handing the ring back to her.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’ve done so much for me and I…” she trailed off, debating her next words carefully before backing out, “I… can’t even begin to tell you how much I appreciate it.” She took his right hand and slid the ring slowly onto his fourth finger. “And it fits!”

“Thank you,” he replied, pulling her gently towards him for a kiss. 

“We should get going, the food’s probably ready now.”

“5 minutes,” Arthur mumbled, yanking her hips against his and directing her backwards towards her bedroom.

By the time they made it back to the cabin, most of the food had been packed away.

“Whey! What time do you call this?” Hancock called, “Bobby here’s sharing some of his stories from when he used to be a feral child.”

“Hey! I was _not_ a feral child!”

“Whatever you say, we saved you both some food, probably cold now but it should still taste good.”

Hancock gestured to two plates, stacked high with food, set in front of the two seats opposite him.

Grace felt Arthur stiffen beside her, despite attempting to make pleasantries with what he considered to be the more ‘unsavoury’ inhabitants of Sanctuary and his begrudging acceptance of ghouls, he still struggled to interact with Hancock.

“Food sounds great!” Grace called back, grasping Arthur by the arm before he could make a run for Scribe Brannon who was chatting to a group of enamoured Minutemen.

They ate their food quickly and drank even quicker, Arthur chugging a significant amount of neat whiskey before attempting to converse with Cait and Hancock. As the sun set, conversations turned in to betting games and lewd stories, the calm atmosphere was replaced with dancing and singing and after a long heart-to-heart, Cait had managed to convince Arthur into an arm wrestle.

Grace stood back, taking in the room when MacCready joined her.

“I know you brought back the Minutemen, destroyed the institute, brokered peace across enemy factions and saved my son, but I think this whole thing is the most impressive thing you’ve ever done,” he said wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her into a tight hug.

“Thank you. Merry Christmas Mac.”

“Merry Christmas Grace.”


End file.
